Silver Flame. Hannah HowellЧитать онлайн книгу.
a quiet voice she told him of her mother, a woman twisted by greed and envy. She told him of the murders of her father and the twins’ mother, by hired brigands in the wood and of the poisoning of her grandmother—all at the hand of Arabel Brodie and her lover, Malise Brodie, a kinsman her father had once trusted implicitly. Sine Catriona’s father was barely dressed for burial when Arabel and Malise had wed. Sine Catriona spoke of the slow, painful realization that her own mother hated her, resented her youth and beauty, for Arabel’s own loveliness was beginning to fade. Sine Catriona told Farthing of how she had taken the twins and fled into the night when she discovered that she and the boys were to be her mother’s next victims. With their deaths, all the Brodie lands, fortune, and title would go to Arabel and Malise.
“So ye are left to wander in the woods amongst rogues, vagabonds, and wild beasts,” Farthing said.
“Aye. I could think of naught but escape.” Sine Catriona looked at the twins. “They are but wee bairns.” She smiled at Farthing. “Howbeit, we cannae hide in the woods forever. We search for one who would aid us, one who doesnae cower in his boots and has the armed men we need. There has to be such a knight somewhere and I will find him. Howbeit, ’twill mean some wandering. I ken that weel enough.”
“Aye, but I would guess that ye ken verra little of the wandering life.”
“I will learn.”
“That I dinnae doubt at all. ’Twould be best, how-somever, if ye had a teacher, a tutor.”
“And would ye be that tutor?”
“There could be none better.”
She bit her bottom lip, briefly revealing her fine white teeth. “I cannae wander too far afield for here is all that I must regain when the time is right.”
“There is many a place where I might ply my trade along this strip of land separating the Lowlands from the Highlands.”
“We are a danger to all who might aid us.”
“I may not like the thought of living by my sword, but I weel ken how to wield it.”
“The people we flee deal in poisons and daggers thrust from the shadows.”
“And who kens the shadows better than a thief? And that is what I shall teach ye.”
“Then we should like to wander with ye and, when I regain all that is mine by birthright, I shall reward ye weel.”
“I dinnae do this for reward.” Farthing smiled faintly.
“I thought not.” Sine Catriona frowned. “But then, what do ye do this for?”
“Mayhaps I am weary of being alone.”
“Ye will teach us to conjure?”
“Ye shall be my assistants.”
“And ye shall teach us to steal?”
“As none other can, may God forgive me.”
“It sounds much better than cowering in the wood awaiting my mother’s huntsmen.”
He nodded at the twins. “Do ye think that they understand?”
She ruffled each boy’s golden brown curls. “They understand what death is, Farthing Magnus.”
“That is enough for now.”
Chapter 1
Stirlingshire, Scotland, 1386
“I told ye it would be unwise to answer that wench’s invitation,” Sine Catriona Brodie complained, clinging to her seat as Farthing Magnus raced their cart down the road, away from a keep that held an amorous lady and a hotly jealous husband.
“So ye were in the right of it this time. How did ye ken it?”
“With every smile she sent ye ere ye crept off to her chambers, her husband’s countenance grew blacker.”
“I must remember to watch the husband as weel as the wife.”
“Wisdom that is late in arriving is better than no wisdom at all.”
Farthing laughed. “How verra wise.”
“So I thought when I heard it. I dinnae believe they follow us.”
Easing the furious gait of their horse, Farthing peered behind them. “Nay, it seems not, but we shall travel on. He could yet turn his fury our way. I should like to get to the fair still hale and whole.”
“Doesnae it trouble ye that the lady may be beaten?” Sine Catriona straightened her cowl, hastily tucking a few stray silvery curls back beneath its folds.
“She was an adulteress.” He grinned when she gave him a look of disgust.
“Did it ne’er occur to ye to save her from her sins by refusing what she offered?” she asked.
“Why should I go hungry when I ken that the meal will just be offered elsewhere?”
“Lecherous dog. Ye didnae even have time to tie all your points. Your chausses sag.”
“At least I wasnae sent afleeing with my arse bared to the wind and moon.”
“That day may yet arrive. Your ardor may yet send you to hell.”
“As ye age, ye grow more pious,” Farthing drawled.
“I hope to save your soul.”
“My soul is past redemption, Catriona. I will ne’er see heaven, but I am resigned.” He gave a heavy sigh.
She made a soft, derisive noise. “If ye are so resigned, why do ye still visit the priests to confess and attempt penance?”
“Drive the cart.” He thrust the reins into her small, delicate hands. “I must rest,” he murmured, and bent to fix his hose.
After tidying his clothes he slouched in his seat, tugged his hat over his face, and wrapped his cloak about himself. Maintaining the air of one nearly asleep, he eyed Sine Catriona from beneath his lowered hat brim. It was a neverending puzzle to him that he did not lust after her.
In the six years they had traveled together she had grown from a lovely girl to a breathtakingly beautiful young woman, ripe for love and marriage. She had a deep, low voice that brought the glint of desire into a man’s eyes. Huge violet eyes dominated her small, oval face, and were encircled by raven lashes so thick and long that many suspected some artifice had been employed on them. Her figure was slender yet had all the curves any man could crave. The crowning glory to her beauty was her hair, its silver-white waves tumbling from her head to her knees. It always seemed a pity to him that she had to keep it hidden, tucked away for fear it would lead her treacherous mother to her. Everything about Sine Catriona was desirable. She exuded an innocent, subtle, and unpracticed sensuality that drew men to her like wasps to hot, sweet cider. Farthing could recognize all of that, yet felt no hint of passion for her.
The only answer to the puzzle was that she had become as close to him as his nearest kin. Despite the fact that he was just ten years her senior, at times he felt as if she was his child. He supposed some of that feeling arose because he had watched her make that almost magical change from child to woman.
Yet again he felt guilty that he had not, could not, help her regain what her murderous kin had stolen from her. He had not even been able to stop Arabel and Malise Brodie from declaring Sine Catriona and the twins dead. They had feigned an elaborate burial and taken hold of all the money, the lands, and the title. What was more, he felt troubled over how he had taught his charges to live—by theft and trickery. Yet, what choice had he? Those were the talents by which he made his own living.
What she needed was a warrior with a force of skilled, armed men at his command. She had said so while still a child and she had been right. She needed a knight who would not cower in his boots before the evil power of the Brodies, one with the coin, power, and